Restless Shadows
by LizAna
Summary: Bellarke shorts - starts after 2x05 - Clarke and Bellamy have returned to Camp Jaha and discuss what Finn did, followed by Clarke and Bellamy going into Mount Weather
1. Chapter 1

The lamp flickered, threatening to blink out and plunge the room into deep darkness. Bellamy reached over and tapped on the outside, until the light glowed steady again, casting a wide circle of light over the empty shelves around him. The damn light better not go out, he'd had to trade one of the knives he'd made from the dropship for it.

The storage cupboard he'd found in this mostly-undamaged section of the downed ark had long been stripped, anything useful taken to set up Camp Jaha. Apparently, a lot of people wanted to sleep out in tents, away from the ship they'd called home all their lives. Personally, after spending weeks on end under tarps or sleeping with no shelter at all, the novelty of all that fresh air and wide open spaces had worn off. Inside the crashed ark was safer, warmer, and in this particular room, quieter — which was exactly what he needed right now.

Except if the footsteps right outside the door were any indication, he wasn't going to stay alone for very long. But it would only be Octavia, he hadn't told anyone else where he was going. He pushed to his feet and wearily walked over to pull the hatch open. Except it wasn't his sister standing on the other side of the door, gaze hollowed and looking slightly lost.

"Clarke, is everything okay?" Had the adults decided what to do with Finn already? After so recently being on the receiving end of the adult's harsh judgment, he hadn't wanted to hang around while they worked out what to do with Finn. Partly, he was worried they'd adhere to the old laws and execute the guy. But he was more worried they'd decide since Finn had killed a bunch of grounders, he wouldn't need to be punished at all.

Maybe if they'd been there to see the cracked gleam in Finn's eyes, they wouldn't be so quick forgive him. The way Finn had looked at Clarke—adoring on the verge of obsessive—it had given him chills. Clarke had been backing up, and Finn had started toward her. Before he'd even thought about it, he'd put himself in between them, blocking Finn's path to her. Clarke had grabbed on to the back of his jacket and hadn't let go until Octavia and Murphy had distracted Finn by taking his gun away.

"Sorry, I don't know why I came here." Clarke backed up a step, her gaze dropping away. "But Octavia mentioned where you were and I just—"

She took a sharp breath, eyes closing for a moment. He wanted to step out and offer her the comfort she so clearly needed, but Clarke had never looked to him for that—apart from that one hug they'd shared. Though that had been more about relief at finding each other alive.

She finally opened her eyes and caught him with an intent regard. "I just keep seeing all those grounders Finn shot. Unarmed women and children. I don't understand…"

She shook her head, lips pressing together.

"There is no understanding something like that, Clarke. We all have a point where we snap and do things we once would have thought impossible. Finn reached his, that's all there is to it."

She crossed her arms. "So it's that easy for you, just explain it away by reasoning that Finn finally snapped."

"No, it's not that simple." He stepped across the threshold of the hatchway, bring him that much closer to her. "Fact is, most days I feel like I'm one more dead body or sleepless night away from losing it myself."

Clarke's gaze searched his, her expression haunted as though she'd felt the same thing. "So how do you keep it together?"

He gave a short humorless laugh. "I have no idea. Having Octavia helps, gives me something to fight for."

"Fighting for someone else isn't the answer. Finn said he did it all for me, to find me." She dragged a hand over her tangled blond hair. "How am I supposed to live with that?"

He reached out and dropped a hand onto her shoulder. "You don't, because you weren't the one who pulled the trigger. Don't put this on yourself, Clarke, it's not your responsibility."

She sighed, and he got the feeling she wasn't listening to a word he said.

"I should go, let you get some sleep." The reluctance in her voice told him she didn't actually want to go anywhere.

He let his hand slip from her shoulder, and glanced back into the storage room he'd claimed for himself. "I wasn't doing much in the way of sleeping."

"I thought you said you'd sleep once we found Finn. Well, guess what? We found him." A touch of amusement crossed her features, chasing some of the shadows away.

He crossed his arms and sent her a droll look. "I don't see you getting any shut eye."

"I can't close my eyes without seeing—" She took a short breath. "It starts off as the grounders Finn shot, then it turns into the grounders hanging upside down in Mount Weather. And then when I get closer, its our people—Monty and Jasper, all upside down, still alive and begging for me to help them while their blood—"

"Stop, Clarke." He grabbed her shoulders again, because she'd started shaking as the words had spilled out of her. Instinctively, he pulled her in, wrapping his arms around her. "We'll find them, okay? We'll find all of them, before any of that happens."

He shouldn't go making her promises he had no way of keeping, but right in that second, he would have told her anything to calm her down. The princess had been the steel backbone of the group since they'd crashed on this planet. He couldn't have her going apart on him, not now. Not when he was starting to get the feeling he needed her now more than ever.

"Come on." With an arm around her back, he led her into the storage room and swung the hatch over behind himself. He sat Clarke down on the pathetic pile of thin blankets he'd managed to scrounge up, and then pulled out the ration he'd been saving for breakfast. But when he held it out, Clarke shook her head.

"I'm okay; Mom hovered over me until I ate before."

He nodded and put the ration away again, before shifting to sit next to her, just off the blankets. He couldn't imagine what it'd be like to still have a mom around, to have an adult still concerned about his welfare.

"At least its warmer in here." She wrapped her arms around her knees, staring at the lamp sitting in the middle of the space.

"Here." He reached past her and pulled up one of the blankets, arranging it over her shoulders. "You should really get some sleep. Can't storm Mount Weather unless you're up to full speed."

He glanced up at her as he finished tucking the blanket around her right arm, finding her face only a few inches away. In the dull lamplight, her eyes looked a darker, more dramatic blue. Damned if it wasn't the sissiest thing, but his heart skipped a beat as she stared at him.

"You don't mind if I sleep here?"

He swallowed, resisting the urge to lean in closer. "No, I don't mind."

"Okay." She released a long breath and then shifted, half turning to put herself into his arms, against his chest.

He hesitated for a moment, before lightly setting his hands on her. With a slow movement, he lowered back, until they were lying down, Clarke resting her head on his shoulder. Maybe it should have been weird or awkward, considering they'd pretty much loathed one another recently. But for a while now, his feelings for her had definitely been shifting, no matter how hard he'd tried to ignore it.

Clarke wasn't just some girl to sleep with. She was smart, fierce, determined and nearly fearless. He'd never met another girl like her, and half the time didn't know if she impressed him, or simply pissed him off. Whatever the case, she was complicated, and he didn't do complicated.


	2. Chapter 2

Clarke pushed through the brush and crossed the clearing toward the concrete hatchway leading into Mount Weather. No doubt they already knew she was here, picking her up on the cameras she knew were there, but couldn't see.

She stopped a few feet from the door and held out her arms, to show them she was unarmed.

"I want to speak to Dante," she called out, not sure if they got audio with their visual.

A twig snapped behind her and she glanced over her shoulder to see Bellamy pushing through the bushes in almost the exact same spot she'd emerged from the forest.

"What are you doing here?" she asked as he approached, his gaze moving warily over their surrounds.

"Did you really think I was going to let you go back in there alone?" He stopped beside her, brushing his jacket aside to show her the butt of the pistol in the waistband of his pants. "I thought you could use some insurance."

"They won't let you in there with a weapon." She turned to look back at the door, getting impatient as the seconds ticked by. Were they going to let her in, or not? Since she hadn't left on the best terms, she knew it was a long shot, but they'd all agreed to try talking to the leader of the mountain-men before launching an attack they might not win.

"Besides, I told you I'd be fine. Dante knows me; I was more likely to get in on my own. You probably just screwed my chances by turning up here."

Bellamy sighed, crossing his arms. "Fine, it wasn't just about having your back. It's about Lincoln."

She glanced up at him to find that hard, closed-off expression on his face. But his dark eyes—well, no matter how he tried to school his features, those eyes always gave him away. And right now, they were turbulent with emotion.

"I thought he was doing better."

He shrugged one shoulder, staring at the doorway into the mountain. "Your mom said it was like he was an addict coming down off something hard, and when we could get close enough to examine him, we found puncture marks on his neck and arms."

"As in he'd been injected with something? And you think the mountain-men had something to do with that?"

Bellamy glanced down at her, expression telling her the answer should have been obvious. "Well the grounders don't exactly have the medical supplies to be injecting themselves, now, do they?"

She turned to look at the still-closed door in front of them, thoughts tumbling through her mind almost too fast to catch. She hadn't thought too much about the escape she and Anya had made, especially those frantic first few moments when they'd found themselves in the maze of mineshafts, right in the middle of reaper territory. Those used bodies in the mine carts, it had almost been like they'd been feeding the reapers. But why? She'd never questioned how the reapers came to be, assuming they were some genetic mutation from decades of radioactive exposure. But in light of the fact that Lincoln had _become_ a reaper, now more sinister notions were forming in her mind.

The door in front of them suddenly shifted with a click and a groan.

"Here we go," Bellamy muttered, reaching under his jacket to subtly close his hand over the butt of the gun.

A moment later, the huge, round hatch swung outward, revealing half a dozen men in hazmat suits, all carrying rifles.

"Come with us," one of the men said, his voice muffled by the suit. Clarke glanced at Bellamy, who sent her a nod. She stepped ahead of him, between the soldiers who had split to make a path for them. As they walked through the hatchway, the soldiers moved in around them.

They all stopped, waiting while the huge door swung closed again, leaving them standing in the concrete hallway, with sharp, white artificial lights above, just like she remembered.

One of the soldiers stepped forward and ordered Bellamy to put his hands up, before relieving him of the gun. He shot her a thwarted look, but she shook her head at him. She'd come here in peace, to give Dante one chance to let their people walk out before they all went to a place they couldn't come back from. Of course, there was always the risk Dante would just decide to keep her prisoner and make sure she couldn't escape this time, which was why her mom had been against her going. However, Dante wasn't likely to let anyone else in the mountain, so there really hadn't been a choice. The contingency plan featured the soldiers from the ark and grounder army storming the mountain in seventy two hours if she hadn't returned by then.

"Contamination quarantine," one of the soldiers ordered, motioning down the hallway with his gun.

"Great, because I had so much fun in there last time," she muttered as the soldiers started marching them down the hallway. The walked in silence along the corridor, Bellamy seeming to be taking in every detail. It wouldn't make a difference whether or not he memorized the route they'd taken through the maze of hallways. The only way they'd be leaving now would be with Dante's permission.

They walked through another hatchway, where doors leading off opened into the white containment rooms. Maya stood mid-way down the hall, not wearing a protective suit, holding a bundle of garments and blankets.

The girl smiled as they got closer. "Clarke, its good to see you again, I'm glad you came back."

"I'm only here temporarily, believe me. Why aren't you wearing a hazmat suit, won't you get sick?"

Maya's smile widened. "I'm better. I mean, now I'm immune to the radiation. Its amazing."

"How—?" One of the guards grabbed her shoulder to stop her going any closer.

Bellamy stepped in and yanked away the guard's hold, twisting the soldier's arm. "Don't touch her, got it?"

The other soldiers brought their guns up, and Bellamy froze, but didn't give up his grip on the guy's arm.

"That's enough." She reached out and covered Bellamy's hand. "We came here to talk, remember?"

Bellamy cast a hard glance around the circle of soldiers, anger edging into his expression. "Do these jerks know how to talk without their guns in people's faces?"

He let the soldier go with a rough shove, making the soldier stumble, before righting himself.

Maya stepped forward, ignoring the rifles aiming at them.

"Here, you'll need these. Clarke, you can go in here, and your friend will be across the hall."

"No. No way." Bellamy cut in. "You're not splitting us up."

Maya glanced at one of the nearby soldiers, who gave the signal for the others to stand down. When she looked back at them, her smile seemed a bit strained.

"Okay, if you want to room together, I guess that's okay. Get changed and seal your clothes into the plastic bag."

Clarke took the pile that Maya handed over, before the other girl stepped back and clasped her hands in front of herself in that formal way she tended to stand.

"How long will we need to be in quarantine?"

"Around twenty four hours." Maya added a smile to the end of the words, though the expression seemed forced.

"Twenty four hours?" Bellamy repeated. "I hope you're going to feed us. I hear the chocolate cake is good."

Turning, she sent Bellamy an exasperated glare, before stepping into the white room. She couldn't tell if it was the same one she's been in last time, but it looked identical. From the glimpse she'd gotten into the other rooms, it seemed every single one was the same.

Bellamy had barely stepped into the room, before the doors slammed shut behind him. She dropped the pile Maya had given her on the narrow bed, before sighing. Now for the hard part—waiting. She glanced over her shoulder, to where Bellamy seemed to be casing the perimeter of the room. At least she wasn't alone this time, though she couldn't decide if that was a good thing, or a bad thing.


	3. Chapter 3

Bellamy did a lap around the room, taking in the white couch, butt-ugly art work in an even uglier gold frame, white trolley, white sink, white toilet… yeah, there was a lot of white going on in here. He finished his inspection, stopping by the narrow hospital-like bed in the center of the room.

As he half turned to face Clarke, she slapped a handful of white clothes against his chest.

"Get changed."

Without waiting for a response, she turned her back on him and started shaking out a white t-shirt.

"If you wanted me to take my clothes off, princess, all you had to do was ask."

"I just did," she threw over her shoulder, before shrugging out of her jacket.

Well, things were looking grim if she wasn't even bothering to shoot down his sarcastic flirting.

"What's the hurry?" He asked as she bent down to unlace her boots.

She paused to look back at him. "Because the sooner we're decontaminated, the sooner we can make sure our people aren't being used as walking blood bags. Or worse, been turned into reapers."

She straightened up and toed her loosened boots off, before tugging up her shirt and revealing the toned expanse of her stomach. "You better turn around before I start thinking you're some kind of perv."

He dragged his eyes up from her waist and shot her a grin. "If you flash me, I'd be more than happy to return the favor."

Her expression took on an exaggerated edge. "Ha-ha, very funny. And you're forgetting, I've seen you shirtless already. It's nothing to brag about."

"Ouch, that hurt. And here I thought we were getting all chummy, teaming up to get our people back." He unfolded the t-shirt and pants, turning toward the door.

"I wouldn't face that way."

He refrained from rolling his eyes and glanced over his shoulder at her. "Why not? There's clearly no one out in the hallway."

She nodded upwards. "Camera."

He followed her line and saw the black bubble in the ceiling. He walked over until he was almost underneath it. "Hey! When am I getting my chocolate cake?"

She snorted as he backed up a few steps.

"Please don't tell me that's the only reason you came along."

"Well, you just made it sound so damn good." He turned his back on the camera and walked over to the couch, dropping the light clothes on the arm, before shrugging out of his jacket and then quickly changing into the loose white pants. However, when he got the t-shirt on, it seemed someone had miscalculated his number by about three size. He yanked the too-tight garment down and then turned back to Clarke. The first thing he saw was bare feet, followed by bare calves up to her knees. She had a few bruises on her shins, but the sight of those legs were kind of distracting. Which was ridiculous, they were just legs. But they were bare legs he'd never seen before.

He cleared his throat and forced himself to meet her gaze. "Nice shorts."

She cracked a smile, her eyes traveling downward for a brief moment. "Nice shirt."

He tugged at it, feeling ridiculously self-conscious. "Yeah, someone's going to answer for this later."

Clarke glanced away from him, and damned if it didn't look like she was trying not to laugh. He wanted to be insulted that he was apparently the source of her amusement, but the sight of that smile hit him right in the middle of his chest. He couldn't remember the last time he'd seen her anything close to happy, certainly not since that whole thing with Finn had gone down.

He balled up his clothes and brought them over to stuff in the heavy plastic bag she held, before she added her own clothes and then sealed it. After that, she took it over to put it on the floor next to the door, before returning to his side. He leaned a hip against the bed and crossed his arms.

"Now what?"

She brushed by him to hop up on the bed, her shoulder and thigh brushing his side. "Now we wait."

He looked over at her. "That's it? We wait?"

"Well, we could use the IV stand to smash the window and escape, but I did that last time I was here, and I wouldn't want to be predictable."

He grabbed her arm, running a light finger over the still-healing cut along her forearm. "Is that how you did this?"

"The first time, yeah. The second time I tore the stitches on a metal bed frame so I could get into the medical wing to find out what was going on."

He tightened his fingers around her wrist a little, knowing exactly how much courage it'd take to do something like that. There was absolutely no doubting his princess's resolve when it came to protecting the people she cared about. But in direct contrasting to that, when the people she cared about disappointed her, she took it hard, which was why she'd been struggling with the things Finn had done. In the past few days, he'd been finding it hard to watch her deal with things and only offering his help in the most general ways.

Ever since he'd thought the grounders had taken her, he'd started having these weird urges to protect her, a lot like he sometimes went overboard trying to protect Octavia. Except Clarke quite obviously didn't need his protection, she was a warrior in her own right.

"Anyway, hopefully this time I won't have to do anything that extreme, like running from reapers or jumping off dams." She shot him a strained smile, before gently pulling her wrist from his grasp, though her thigh was still pressed against his hip where he was leaning on the bed, their shoulders brushing.

Maybe he should have moved away from her. Maybe he had no right getting up close to her considering their own rocky history and her recent problems with Finn. But being near her felt comfortable and easy, a kind of reassurance in the deluge of crap that kept coming their way. No one had ever said being sent to Earth would be easy, but hell, they could use a break right about now. However, before anything, they needed to get what was left of the 100 back from the psychos here in Mount Weather.

He straightened, crossing his arms and turning his mind to strategies. "So, tell me what the plan is once we're decontaminated."


End file.
